So I'm staying at Erik's house, which was about as common as Erik at my house, or Erik at Mark's house, or me at Mark's house, or...anyway, you get the idea. We had told Mark that we would be stopping by later that evening, but there was apparently an interpretational difference in the "later" portion of the statement.

About midnight or so Erik and I hit his old man's scotch. I couldn't tell you what kind. I don't think fifteen year old boys have a good appreciation for that type of thing. Once finished with the scotch we head out for our meeting with young Mr. Darin. Along the way we stopped at the 7-11 for Swisher Sweets. We smoked an enormous amount of inexpensive cigars in our youth. The damned things just seemed right for our travels. The trek from Erik's home to Mark's was perhaps two miles, maybe a little more, up the "freeway" then down some side streets. The freeway, on this evening proved more challenging than it probably should have. As Erik and I walked and smoked and talked of things of great importance (Star Trek mostly), we heard behind us a barking that grew louder as the barkers, two dobermans with the cute cut ears and bobbed tails, decided we were just to stupid to exist and needed to remedy that great cosmic injustice.

I don't know that anyone saw these events, after all who the hell else is wandering around the freeway in Lexington Park, Maryland after midnight. I remember running faster than I ever had. I don't remember when the dogs stopped chasing us. I know only that we made really good time getting to Mark's house. This is where the interpretational difference of "later" is important. Erik and I knew that it would be in the small hours of the morning. Mark, I think, felt if would be, oh when normal people are up walking around, or at least conscious. Now, with Mark being dead asleep we, of course, had to at least try and wake him. This consisted of a series of window taps and "Hey Marks" which proved fruitless.

Defeated, we left. Our only joy came the next day when we discovered that we had indeed roused someone that night. Mrs. Darin was most unhappy with Mark and whoever it was that had come to the house at such an ungodly hour. I'd like to say that was the last time we did that, but of course it wasn't, and it was a lot more fun once we learned how to pick the lock in the garage. Sleep well Mark


Comments are closed.